


An unexpected Holiday

by pandorasboxoffeels



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Holidays, Johnlock Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandorasboxoffeels/pseuds/pandorasboxoffeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has been away. The only remedy. An unexpected holiday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An unexpected Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> Just the beginning of a little fic written for a friend. Enjoy :)

John sat longingly by the fire scotch in hand. He watched the embers burn violet hues to blue and lost himself in perilous thought. He poured the amber liquid down his throat conjuring the familiar visage of his peculiar flatmate. A beguiling man, a clever detective, and an unorthodox friend. His best friend. One that sent his emotions spinning and one that kept him up at unruly hours of the night worried. John unsure of how he felt about that poured another glass. 

* * *

He woke up with an empty bottle of scotch in his lap, a pounding migraine, and a heart filled with worry. The fire had long burned out but not the anxious trepidation that stirred in his chest. He rose from his chair unsteady in search of his mobile. Still no word from Sherlock. Still no affirmation of the safety of the zany detective. Baker Street seemed to haunt John without Sherlock’s presence. The old wood creaked and moaned and the wind whistled sorrowful moans against the window pane. Mrs hudson was away visiting relatives until the end of the week and the whole flat seemed devoid of any comforting nature. Mycroft had informed John that the case Sherlock was working on would take 3 days away but it had been 6 days since the last time John spoke with him. Something felt wrong and the fear weighed heavily upon his heart. John decided to go about his day in a normal fashion. Shower. Eat. Work. Read. Sleep. He found this routine to be highly mundane and dull and often found himself falling asleep thinking about his flatmate in his chair by the fire.  
* * *  
John woke the same stiff from a long evening in his chair and with a feeling of loss. But this time he was greeted by an all too familiar voice. “Oh good you’re awake. Mrs. Hudson just brought tea.” Johns eyes snapped open analyzing the detective and drinking in each detail of the man just the same as Sherlock when formulating deductions at a crime scene. The man remained the same as hes always been. Taut unruly ebony curls springing from his head and lanky slender limbs that went on and on in his tailored suits and always a ghost of a smile on his lips. But his brow crinkled with concern and disrupted the grace of his ivory skin. Sherlock’s profound voice roused John from his thoughts. 

“Well John do say something. This conversation grows tiresome with the lack of response.” John stuttered before formulating hardly an appropriate response. 

“You’re back.”

“Way to state the obvious John.” Sherlock remarked while rolling his eyes and ingesting a gracious amount of tea. John rapidly fired questions as the sprung forth from his mouth.

“When did you get back? What happened on the case? Why didn’t you contact me?”  
Sherlock lazily replied, “This morning didn’t wish to wake you. Dull. Busy.”

“Thats all I get Sherlock after Bloody 7 days with no contact not a single word?!”John fumed.

“Yes John you know i’m not in the habit of repeating myself. Possibly with lestrade but you no. By the way you should refrain from falling asleep in that chair it’s starting to harm your back and I can’t have an old man trailing about behind me I need my blogger strong. And don’t think I haven’t noticed all of the quality prized empty scotch bottles in the bins.” 

As the words left his lips he watched his flatmate battle the emotions stirring about him. There was obvious anger and irritation but also an underlying sadness that masked most of Johns usual calm and collected features. Sherlock concluded perhaps his time away had more of an impact on him after all and perhaps his lack of communication was unfair. As he observed his friend with a clinical eye he noticed the worry in his eyes and the nervous rub of his trembling hand on his leg. Sherlock wanted to soften his harsh remarks to his flatmate and repair the damage his time away had caused. Before John could respond Sherlock bounded from his chair and set a quick text to his brother. 

“Go John and pack your things I believe it is time for a holiday.” John shocked but decided not to inquire bounded up the stairs trying to hide his mirth and went and packed his things.


End file.
